Navy SEAL Security Page 16

  The guy wasn’t kidding about sailing away.

  “Do I need to bring anything? How will you know I have the key with me?”

  “Let me worry about that. I know what to do. Just pack a bag.” Carlos paused. “You’ll come alone, won’t you? This isn’t some kind of trick? You won’t show up with the police?”

  Amy finally made eye contact with Riley. “No trick. I’ll be there alone.”

  “Until tomorrow, mi amor.”

  “Until tomorrow.”

  Amy slid her phone shut and Riley snatched it to view the number. “Probably a prepaid phone.” He fired her cell phone at the couch and it hit the cushion and bounced to the floor. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “I’m meeting Carlos tomorrow, and we’re going to get that money.” She stood up and stretched, tousling her hair. “Once you get the money, you can halt the terrorists’ plans and maybe get some information about Jack.”

  He surveyed her through narrowed eyes. “How do you plan to get the money from Lover Boy?”

  “You just said it. Lover Boy. I’ll get Carlos to do what I want one way or another.”

  “You’re crazy. He’s a criminal. He had the nerve to double-cross a terrorist cell and the Velasquez boys. He’s not going to kowtow to you for the sake of love.”

  “You never know.”

  “You’re not going alone.”

  “If he sees you, he’ll run.”

  “He won’t see me.” He pulled her into his arms. “If you’re going through with this insane plan, I’m going to be by your side…mi amor.”

  Amy placed her hands on either side of his face and drew him down for a hard kiss on the mouth. “Don’t call me that—ever.”

  THE FOLLOWING DAY after hours of planning, Amy sipped her coffee as Riley outlined plans and escape routes on a legal pad for the hundredth time. “I don’t want you getting into a boat, plane or automobile with Carlos.”

  Amy tipped more milk into her cup. “I’m kinda gonna have to if we want to find the money. You’ll be following us anyway, right? And maybe we’ll get lucky, and Carlos and I will use my car.”

  He tapped a small metal disk on the counter for the umpteenth time. “I think we should use the bug. Even if Carlos suspects you, he won’t be able to detect this if we tuck it in your waistband.”

  “Are you trying to convince me or yourself? I already told you—I’m game.”

  “If Carlos discovers it…”

  “He’s not going to discover it. How else am I supposed to let you know where we’re going? If you’re going to be watching us from some concealed location or from far away, what am I supposed to do, send up smoke signals?”

  “I can always follow you at a discreet distance. He won’t detect me, and we’ll have the GPS on your car just in case.” He cupped his hand and bounced the little listening device up and down in his palm.

  Riley had more jitters than a Thoroughbred at the starting gates of the Kentucky Derby. She laid her hand flat against his, trapping the disc. “If he won’t discover you following us, he’s not going to find this little microphone on my body or in my clothes. Hook that baby up.”

  The deep lines between his eyebrows didn’t budge, but he nodded. “I may be out of sight, but I’ll be close. You say the word, and I’ll be at your side.”

  “I know.” Just like he’d been at her side all night long.

  They’d made love again, but slowly this time, drinking each other in, filling each other up. Neither of them wanted to admit it, but they’d made love as if they might never make love again.

  An hour later, Riley wheeled her suitcase from his bedroom and parked it by the front door. Once again they’d sifted through all her items, this time looking for a key to a padlock. Carlos had seemed confident that Amy would have the key when she went to meet him, but how could he be so sure?

  Amy jerked her chin toward her bag. “Do you think we should check one more time? He told me to pack a bag, so I’m assuming he hid it somewhere in my suitcase.”

  “We don’t even know that for sure. What if he plans to take a crowbar to the lock or melt it off with a blow-torch? Maybe he ditched the key a long time ago or isn’t worried that you’ll bring it with you. He wants you, not the key.”

  “You’re probably right.” Amy passed her hands across her face. “Even if we found the key, there are plenty of self-storage places in San Diego with hundreds of containers. How would we ever find the right one?”

  “We won’t. That’s why we need Carlos to lead us to the money. Once we get it and turn it over to the CIA, the cell will have no reason to go after you, and they’ll have to go back to the drawing board for funding whatever it was they were planning to fund with that money.”

  “But that won’t get you any closer to finding Jack.”

  “Maybe, maybe not, but I have a gut feeling Jack will be safer if we disrupt the terrorists’ plans.”

  “We all will.”

  After Riley loaded her suitcase into the trunk of her car, he attached a GPS device behind her back wheel. He straightened up and brushed his hands together. “I don’t think Carlos will agree to take your car, but just in case.”

  “You’re good, Riley Hammond. You should come out of retirement.”

  “I’m good at taking tourists out on my dive boat, too, and it’s a lot safer.”

  She snorted. “You don’t seem like a man interested in safe.”

  “Will that be a problem?” He cocked his head. “Maybe you’re not interested in safe.”

  The heat raced to her cheeks and she dipped her head. She’d had the same thought a hundred times, but maybe she’d finally met a man who understood the pull. She brushed her hair out of her face and smiled. “After this adventure, I’m longing for it.”

  “Then let’s get this adventure over with.” He held out his hand and she grabbed it.

  He understood.

  Amy jumped into her car alone, but that didn’t fully describe her situation. She had the tracking device on her car and the listening device on her person. With Riley on her side, she’d never be alone.

  She drove a few miles and shouted, “Can you hear me?”

  Her cell phone played its ringtone immediately and she answered Riley’s call.

  “You don’t have to shout. It’s sensitive. Put the phone down and speak in a normal tone of voice, not like you’re directing an ocean rescue.”

  Amy tossed the phone onto the seat next to her. “Is this better?”

  She picked up the phone again and put it to her ear.

  Riley said, “That’s perfect. Now whisper sweet nothings so I can test the sound level.”

  Amy put the phone away from her again and whispered what she wanted to do to him once they were safely at home.

  “I’d better not be hearing any of that while you’re talking to Carlos.”

  “Hopefully, all you’ll hear from me is the location of this self-storage place.”

  They ended the call and with it the banter, and then the enormity of her mission sucked the air from her lungs. She gripped the steering wheel, her knuckles turning white.

  She’d reach the harbor soon and face Carlos, a man she once cared about. She’d have to convince him she still cared, at least long enough for Riley to track them down at the self-storage lockers and whisk her away—along with the money.

  Always the money. Two sources drove Riley’s motivation to steal this money out from under the terrorists’ noses—to end her involvement and to disrupt any plans involving Jack. Which had the stronger pull for him?

  Did it really matter? A little, persistent voice in her head argued that it did, but she ignored it. Now wasn’t the time to be questioning Riley’s motives.

  She took the off-ramp toward the harbor and buzzed down her window to drink in the salty air. Wheeling into the parking lot, she leaned forward to study the slip numbers looking for number 815. She drove past the tourist boats, empty on this September evening in the middle of the
week.

  She spoke quietly as if to herself. “I’m at the harbor now. Eight-fifteen must be toward the end of the slips on the right of the parking lot entrance.”

  She wanted to hear Riley’s confident voice in response, but she didn’t dare pick up her cell phone now. Carlos could be watching her. Giving herself a brisk shake, she swung into a parking slot opposite the slips.

  Would Carlos be waiting for her out in the open? She slid from the car and swung open a gate leading to the docks, the boats outlined against the sinking sun. She trudged up the ramp, spotting slip eight-fifteen with a midsize sailboat bobbing in the water.

  “Carlos?” She drew back her shoulders and strode toward the boat.

  A dark head popped up from the deck of the boat. His face broke out in a smile. “Mi amor. You made it.”

  “Of course.”

  He rose to his feet, his head jerking back and forth. “You’re alone?”

  “Who would I bring with me?” She spread her arms wide. “I was so happy when you called. When I thought you were dead—” She broke off and covered her face with her hands. “Lo siento. There was no other way. Velasquez or the terrorists would’ve killed me or worse.” He stretched his arms out to her. “I hoped I would regain consciousness before you came home, but when I woke up you were gone—along with my car. You know there’s no wife, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I do. I know you pretended to be married to keep me safe until you could come for me.” Amy reached the boat and grabbed his cool hand. “Those men came after me, Carlos. I had to get away quickly and I remembered you always parked your car in the back.”

  He kissed her hand. “The car is nothing. We can have everything and more.”

  “Where is the money?”

  Carlos narrowed his almost-black eyes, and Amy’s pulse ticked faster. She’d have to show a little more interest in Carlos and a little less interest in his cash.

  “You’ve come here for me and not the money, haven’t you?”

  Amy brushed a dark curl from his forehead. “The money is a nice surprise, but it wouldn’t mean anything without you.”

  He nodded, his gaze shifting past her shoulder at the water. A muscle ticked in his jaw, and Amy’s heart hammered. Had he seen something?

  Glancing her way, he smiled but furrows remained across his brow. “I knew I could trust you, Amy. I knew a little subterfuge wouldn’t scare you off. Your brother told me a lot about you. I don’t think he ever imagined I’d fall in love with you, though. For him you were a means to an end—storing the drugs on the beach—but for me you became much more.”

  She moved her lips beneath his kiss, fighting her revulsion. Running her hand through his hair, she pulled away. “Were you planning to take the money from the deal before you met me?”

  “Yes.”

  His eyes darted toward the water again, but Amy kept her gaze pinned to his face. She didn’t want to turn around. She didn’t want to give away Riley with any deed or word.

  He shook his head and kissed her again. “I decided to keep that money as soon as Ethan laid out the deal to me, but once I met you my resolve deepened. I could get into my storage facility without the key, but the money would be worthless without sharing it with someone. I always wanted you and the money, Amy.”

  It seems as if the money and I are a package deal for everyone.

  “I’m glad.” She pasted a smile on her face. Her jaw ached with the effort.

  She’d had enough of this reunion. Where had Carlos stashed the money? If he told her now, Riley would have a chance to get there before them. He might even have a chance to break off the lock and get the money before they even arrived.

  She ground her teeth together. She didn’t want to ask Carlos about the money again. She had to let him play this out his way.

  “Of course now that you’re here, I can use the padlock key to get into the storage locker.” His sly smile spread across his face. “Do you want to know where I hid the key?”

  A seagull shrieked overhead and an outboard motor hummed in the harbor while Amy held her breath. As Riley mentioned before, finding the key didn’t mean a thing without the location of the self-storage facility. What if Carlos didn’t tell her the location and just took her there? That would make the situation more difficult for Riley.

  But Riley had a contingency plan. He had a plan for everything.

  She smiled sweetly. “Where did you hide the key?”

  He drew her close again, and she almost gagged on his cologne. How had she ever found that scent sexy? She preferred Riley’s clean masculine smell.

  Carlos ran a finger along the chain of her necklace and hooked it around his fingertip, dangling the gold heart-shaped locket at the end. “I put it in something that I knew you’d keep with you always.”

  Gasping, Amy closed her fingers around the keep-sake from her mother. Carlos tapped her hand and she released her hold on the necklace. She glanced down as he flicked the catch with his thumbnail. A small key nestled inside the locket.

  Amy choked back her fury. He’d hidden the means to his vile money in her most sacred possession? He could call her his love all he wanted. He knew nothing of love. He knew nothing of her.

  She coughed and dumped the key into her hand. “Very clever. I would’ve never looked for it in my locket.”

  Riley must be smacking his forehead about now.

  Carlos shrugged. “I didn’t want the key on me, and I didn’t want anyone to discover it on you.”

  “So where is this self-storage facility?” Amy flicked back her hair and slipped the key into her pocket, not meeting Carlos’s steady gaze.

  “Now that I have the key and you, we’ll go together, and then our options are wide open. We can go to any beach in the world.”

  “Is it nearby? Do you want to take my car?” If Carlos didn’t plan to tell her the location of the self-storage place, at least Riley could track them on the GPS.

  “It’s close, but we don’t need to take your car.”

  Amy waved an arm toward the parking lot while her knees trembled. “But my suitcase is in the trunk. It would be easy to take my car and leave it at the airport.”

  “You don’t need your suitcase. Did you bring your passport like I asked?”

  She’d brought it for show, but she had no intention of getting on a plane with Carlos and flying off to a foreign country, beach or no beach. “Yes, I have it, but I’m not going anywhere without my clothes.”

  His jaw tightened. “Don’t be difficult now, Amy. We can get your bag from the car if you like.”

  She wrapped her arms around his waist and hoped Riley wasn’t watching. “I can’t wait to start our journey together. When I thought you were dead…”

  Burying her head against his shoulder, she forced a sob from her throat.

  “Shh.” He smoothed her hair down her back. “It’s almost over. We’re almost there.”

  She sniffled. “I hope the facility is nearby. I can’t take any more drama. Is it? Is it close?”

  “It’s just a few miles from here on Yale Street. I rented a unit in the very back row. It’s a small place, no security guards, no security cameras.”

  Did you get that, Riley? She blew out a tiny, measured breath against Carlos’s shirt.

  “We’ll be there soon, mi amor.”

  The roaring engine of a powerboat drowned out the rest of his words. Carlos tightened his grip on her and she instinctively pulled away. As she did so, she felt the small metal disc slip from her waistband. She glanced down in time to see it bounce into the water.

  Carlos shouted, and it took her several seconds to realize he was yelling at the boat charging in their direction and not the listening device sinking to the bottom of the harbor.

  Her eyes focused on the figures in the boat, and she screamed and staggered back. The powerboat drew up next to the slip with two men on deck pointing guns at them.

  One of the men shouted, “Get down on the ground.”

  A
my shivered as she recognized her attacker from the Federal pen. Her knees locked and she froze.

  Carlos reached under his jacket, and a zipping sound pierced the air. Carlos crumpled to his knees and fell over sideways as Amy clapped a hand over her mouth.

  The men hopped off the boat, brandishing their weapons. The shooter, the man from the prison, hovered over Carlos while the other trained his weapon on Amy. “I hope you didn’t kill him, Farzad. We still need information from him.”

  The man she’d recognized from before, Farzad, nudged Carlos’s body with his foot. Carlos’s blood seeped onto the gangplank, mixing with the saltwater. “He was reaching for a gun.”

  Farzad groped inside Carlos’s jacket and pulled out the weapon tucked inside. Amy’s gut rolled. What would Carlos have done to her if she hadn’t willingly gotten on a plane with him?

  The man aiming his gun at Amy cursed. “At least make sure he’s dead this time, because it doesn’t look like we’re going to get anything out of him.”

  Farzad felt for a pulse and then shoved Carlos’s body into the water with a heavy kick to his midsection. “I’ll make sure this time.”

  Amy’s tongue cleaved to the roof of her dry mouth as she watched Carlos slip into the gently lapping water, his white face a ghastly mask before it disappeared.

  Her gaze skimmed along the empty harbor, a few sailboats bobbed on the water in the distance, oblivious to the violence in their midst. Riley would be on his way to the storage facility, unaware that Carlos would never make it there alive. Would she?

  The man holding her at gunpoint strode toward her and jabbed his gun in her side. “Where’s that man from the prison? Where’s your protector?”

  Good question. She lifted her shoulders. “I left him when Carlos called. I always knew Carlos wasn’t dead. I just used that man for protection against you.”

  Farzad’s eyes narrowed. “Who was he?”

  Amy sneered and spat out, “CIA.”

  A stream of Arabic flowed from the man holding her at gunpoint. He punctuated every exclamation by poking her in the back with a long silencer attached to his weapon.